


Magic Stick

by HerbertBest



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Awkwardness, Crying After Sex, Developing Romance, Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, Magic, Massage, Missionary Position, Penis In Vagina Sex, Snark, Vaginal Fingering, Witchcraft, Witches, developing feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 09:57:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17558213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerbertBest/pseuds/HerbertBest
Summary: A sequel to JennaLee's Magic Touch. Dan and Holly's relationship is moving along, and neither of them knows how to feel about that.  But when Dan asks Holly if she'd like to try making love his way, she has to confront his insistence on intimacy head-on.





	Magic Stick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JennaLee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaLee/gifts).



> Be sure to read [Magic Touch](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16825990) first!

Holly wasn’t a groupie girl. Never, not even when she was at her teenage, Deep Purple loving, half-stoned club dancer learning the ways of Majik at the knees of the girls she’d been friends with at Scouts. Holly was sensible; she’d never dreamed of running away with the circus or chaining herself to love, making herself subservient to anyone. What little musical magic she had she hoarded for herself. It was something she played with when she was bored, making up tiny, silly songs to please Feathers on her ukulele, to send the sparks dancing up and down her lightning-greased strings just to please him.

Thus, it was a miracle that she was standing there on a Friday night in black lipstick. Alone in big, heavy combat boots and an oversized sweater and plaid tights, clutching a cup of half-warm beer watching a bunch of guys in robot costumes play funk music on a tiny stage and not hunching over her spell book, a convention table or a knitting needle, for once. She’d never anticipated what she had with Dan lending itself to anything close to an official date. But here she was, standing at his band’s gig, waiting to watch him sing live.

She rarely felt butterflies, but there were small, bright blue ones, fluttering around in her ribcage as the robot band took its final bows. Her body knew what her mind already understood – he would be up next. And while she’d seen Dan perform on video, on Youtube and heard all of his albums, she hadn’t experienced him live.

Part of her was trying to anchor her emotions in reason. Holly had no idea where she and Dan really stood. They were lovers, definitely, with frequency and affection over the last few months. Their sex life that was slowly turning into something that threatened to become something serious. Last night he’d fallen asleep in her bed while they were in the middle of watching Cowboy Bebop and she’d woken up with his arms and legs wrapped around her, with Mojo on the pillow over their heads, purring contentedly.

It was dangerous, the way he made her feel. 

Holly stayed rooted in one spot while Dan claimed the stage. His band partner, Brian was outfitted in a full ninja outfit. He glared coldly at the audience as he placed himself behind the keyboards. Holly was still feeling Brian out – he’d been polite to her during her brief encounter backstage, where he’d shaken her hand and nodded politely when she’d spoken of her vanilla day job sewing clothing across the city. She knew he knew more about what her real activities included, and his cool politeness had been annoying and insulting. If Brian was going to be pissy about magic, what it could do, and how important it was, the least he could do is be honest about how he felt. It was clear that he didn’t like t that Dan was clearly besotted with her, and that she – in spite of her awkwardness and her attempts at staying cool and even a little reserved – felt something for Dan in return. Brian was a nice guy, a very smart man – or so Dan said. He was likely trying to protect Dan. She told herself that, which stopped her from causing him to grow a hermit’s beard and ultra long nails or turn him into a cat. 

The music wasn’t what she was expecting. From the cover songs to the originals it was a unique experience – one that involved a lot of warbling about dicks but also fantasies about dinosaurs shooting each other with lasers in space. It was gentle and infantile, macho and rude, in the same single breath. Very much Dan in a nutshell. By the end of the set she was tapping her toes and trying – poorly, as she hadn’t memorized all the words yet – t o sing along. They closed the night out with a cover of Journey’s _Don’t Stop Believing_. At which point Dan began grinding his hips around and tossing his hair, a mess of red-brown curls and smudged eyeliner and stripped – not all the way down, likely to avoid offending any particularly juicy obscenity laws.

She swallowed down the rest of her beer and began to sweat. Ugh, no way could she let him know she was actually kind of into this. The audience applauded and he bowed, and she clapped for him. For just a second they locked eyes, and all of his confident, oversexed stage persona melted away, revealing the eager boy underneath the costume.

 

*** 

She had to fight her way past security with a picture ID before she could make it backstage and see Dan again. By then he was once again the man she’d met three weeks before, his hair slicked back in a ponytail, wearing a t shirt, jeans, a leather jacket, and his ridiculously oversized running shoes. He led her through the throng waiting outside as he signed autographs and glad-handled his tiny fanbase. She found herself shoulder-to-shoulder with the ex-robots in the back of the band’s van as they headed to the nearest place that sold sushi.

Dan insisted on paying for a small plate of veggie spring rolls – well seasoned veggies and rice with nothing else binding them together he returned fire by paying for his sushi plate. He ate a ton of maki rolls, chattering a mile a minute about the show, and Holly kept up, occasionally reporting back about the crowd and the shouts she’d heard that he hadn’t been able to pick up with his ear monitors in. 

The plates were cleaned away and someone passed them small dishes of ginger and lemon ice. “So,” Dan said, wiggling his eyebrows, “have any plans for tonight?”

“….Are you asking if you can fuck me tonight?”

Dan’s features suddenly pancaked down into something serious. “No,” he said simply, and with some intensity. “I don’t fuck, I make love…. _we_ make love, don’t we?”

He was slightly flushed about the ears. Holly licked the back of her spoon and he squirmed. “If you wanna call it that, sure.”

“ _Any_ way!” Dan said, his voice cheerfully sinking into lower climbs, visibly scared by the leap he’d taken. “Um. I would be delighted to entertain you tonight, if you have the time.”

“Yes,” she said, affecting an over the top southern accent. “I would be delighted to put you in my boudoir, Colonel Angus.”

Dan spat sake all over the floor at her joke. “Holly,” he said, in the exact same pleading tone he tended to use when he was begging her for an orgasm.

“Y’know, Dan, I’m not going to let you off so easy tonight,” she said, following that thoughtline, her fingertip dancing around the rim of her glass of sake. It glowed bright green and purple before his widening eyes. “I might try to keep you hard all night. I might zap us off into the middle of the mountains for a couple of hours. And…I might keep on the boots.” She could do thousands of things with her magic, and he’d never said no, eagerly tasting every little drop of brew she spilled into his cup. 

He swallowed hard, but perked up slightly at the first set of words. “Oh!” he said brightly. “We don’t need a spell for that.”

She raised an eyebrow and chomped down her dumpling. “Dan, I know how good you are, but…”

“No, you really don’t!” he said. “I took a class in um, tantric sex. So I can hold back for like two hours.” He grinned. “Did you want me to last longer? I can totally try but you like blow my junk into the stratosphere with your epic sexiness.”

Holly felt her skin turn pink, and she squeezed her thighs together under the table. “No. You’re good. Very good.”

“Oh,” he said softly, and dug into the slushy ice. “Thank you.”

 

They wound up back at her place. Among the half-packed boxes of orders for her shop, the big heavy recently-polished furniture that smelled of wax and peppermint, the blossoms of drying angelica and witch hazel swaying and drying in the air over their heads. He led her there – back to the familiar haven of her bed, gently scattering Mo to the floor when they sat on the rim of it. She attacked the curve of his neck.

“Holly?” 

She was sucking on his neck. “Mmm?”

“Holly!” He gently pushed her away, and then cupped her chin and looked right into her eyes. 

“Can we try it my way tonight?” There was a note of softness in his tone as he pushed back his hair. He was almost pleading with her. “Not that I don’t like to be um…completely owned by your sweet, creamy center. But…can I just do you a solid and maybe love on you?”

Holly stared up at him, at his eager face, his nervous expression and the glistening of his kiss-swollen lips. He was dumb and sweet, tender and goofy. He was Dan. 

“OK,” she said dryly. “Ravish my soul.”

He replied by kissing her forehead.

He undressed her slowly, hands light and gliding along her skin, leaving Holly feeling antsy, as if her skin were marching underneath his soft grip. Her layers came off slowly, and Dan – skinny as he was – only had a few to deal with. His jacket got stuck around his pointy elbows, and he laughed as he wiggled out of it. Then she pulled his shirt off and rushed her fingertips down his torso. Dan was taking his time, and she couldn’t help but strain just a little under the touches. He had her bra undone – and was staring with that typical worship in his eyes at her breasts – when she smirked and murmured a little spell, her index finger pointed at his head.

“Don’tsaythat _agah_!” he blurted, as his ponytail came apart and fell in a fluffy halo around his head. “I didn’t even know you could do that!” He felt for his head and fluffed his locks into shape.

“I’m just helping, Danny. Don’t you like it when I help?” 

He groaned. “Oh yeah,” he said. “But tonight I’m going to be the one helping you.” He slingshot her bra toward the bedside table and pulled her close for another kiss. 

Holly shivered – the contact of her nipples brushing through his chest hair made electricity crackle up her spine. He must have felt it too, because he gasped into her mouth and ground himself unsubtly against her stomach. Somehow he got her onto her back and slid two fingers under the left hip side hem of her tights. Her panties went with them. Then he realized he’d left her boots on and groaned. 

“What?” Holly asked. She’d been distracted by his mouth, always seemed to get distracted by his mouth.

“I…” he flushed. “I kind of wanted you to leave your boots on, but uh…yeah, let’s try to get these babies off…”

She sighed. “Motion,” she said. He blinked as the boots disappeared from her feet and reappeared across the room. “You didn’t tell me you have a shoe kink.”

“I don’t. I have a kink for you in these shoes,” he said, and skimmed her tights down. They kissed again, frantically. “Relax,” he mumbled against her mouth, making her muscles soften under his palms. “Keep breathing,” he said. “Close your eyes.”

Then she heard rattling on her bedside table. “Wait!” He sat frozen between her legs. One hand was in her bedside drawer. 

“I was looking for the massage oil!” Dan said.

“Oh.” She untensed. Holly didn’t want to admit to the ugly things she’d been thinking. Dan came up with the bottle, grinning widely, then squirted a handful into his left palm and stroked it down her body, from nipple to hip.

Holly breathed deeply, kept her eyes shut, but her whole body felt like it was full of fluttering butterflies again. His hand moved in broad strokes against her body, weighing her breasts in his open palm. She smelled lavender and rosemary, herbal and soothing as it seeped into her skin.

Dan used the tips of his oversized thumbs on her nipples until they were rosy and solid. He plucked, avoiding pinching her roughly. His fingers skated up her arms and took both of her hands as he pressed his bare torso back down over her own and kissed her again, tongue pressing firmly between her lips.

Holly had relaxed so thoroughly that the next sensation she felt – the feeling of his fingers stroking along her thigh - felt just as sparky and disquieting as the first touch. He massaged her open with his clean hand, massaged her silent, until she panted into his open mouth. She tugged his hair and he groaned as if she’d kicked him.

Back in control, she smiled as he sat back and panted, Holly holding onto him by two messy handfuls of hair. “I think you have another fetish,” she said innocently.

He gave her a shaky smile. “You know I love it when you um…tie me up and tie me down. But tonight’s about you. I wanted to make you like, come your brains out and call me daddy or something…”

“Oh?” she said, mock-cool, though she rubbed herself against the tip of his knee.

“I mean, you’ve been so nice to me and you came to my concert and Brian’s been kind of a douche – like I love the guy but doucheitude’s totally been happening…”

She silenced him with the tip of her index finger. “Hon, you talk too much.”

He tossed his hair and grunted. “Oh yeah, baby! Use the mom voice!”

She rolled her eyes and pulled him to the mattress again.

This time his fingers were more earnest as he teased her, brushing her clit, gathering up any wetness he could find before spreading her labia and manipulating her gently open. She leaned into his other arm and huffed, using her own oily skin to brush herself against him. Dan was infuriatingly patient and gentle with her – but her heart caught and her body heated. Her fingertips caught against the middle of his back, her nails blunt and black, like feathers falling from a raven’s cheek. He was ungodly wonderful at everything he was doing with her, and when he stroked the area directly surround her clitoris instead of touching the bundle of nerves itself, her thighs went to rocks under his. She rocked up into his palm and Dan kissed her soundly as he began to stroke her rapidly.

“Shh,” he said again. 

She stared up at him. “You know I could turn you into an eunuch with a wave of my hand, don’t you?”

“But that wouldn’t be any fun for you!” he pointed out.

Holly didn’t have the wit to reply, but she did have the wit to buck up against his belly, smearing him with wetness.

“You’re making me lose my place,” he breathed. Repositioning his open hand, he stroked over her cleft. The motions were faster this time, the sensations stabbing Holly like hot needles, and she held him hard against her and muttered some curse, some prayer that made everything tighten up and her pelvis seize as pinprick-pleasure shooting up her legs centered in her pussy and then throbbed outward.

She didn’t even notice when he slid down her body and slicked his tongue over her vulva until the pleasure started ratcheting up again. That was good, that was fine, it was amazing. She nearly pulled a handful of russet hair out of his head when he started kissing her, nuzzling his nose in between her labia. He sighed, a little silly romantic sigh, as if he were lost in a good book or a great meal. Long, even licks became rapid flicking, and Holly started using his ears for handles. She lost track of the number of times she came, but he made her greedy and selfish for more. But time passed, flesh – though still eager – became raw. He eventually moved away from her sex and rested his head against her inner thigh, kissing along the ivory length of her skin. She realized that she’d been shaking under him, and forced herself to go still.

“Good girl. Clever girl,” he said, and the genuine joy in his expression made something soft in her heart turn over.

“Don’t make me think of dinosaurs while we’re fucking,” she panted. Her hand found his right one and his sticky appendages flexed around her fist and held her, gently.

Everything about him was gentle.

But he liked it when she was rough, all brambles and edges. When he crawled up her body he nuzzled her face, and she smelled herself, sharp and sweet on his tongue. His cock leapt and twitched between them as they made out and finally Dan pulled away, his body turning patchy tomato red. 

“Can I um…Or should I just go…?”

She reached down to take his cock in hand. Holly was permanently aware of how big the thing was – Excalibur, she remembered, was the silly nickname he’d given It. Big enough to be scary. But she liked scary.

She let go of his cock and positioned his hips with his hands. That pushed the tip of him against her labia, which parted and snagged there, ill-positioned.

But the heat and wetness of her was enough to get the reaction she wanted. _“Fuck,”_ he drawled out. His head bowed and curtained the two of them off from the rest of the world. “Do you want me?”

“Yes.”

“Now?”

_“Dan!”_

He glanced down at his cock and it twitched, bright purple and heavily veined, staring up at him. Deliberately, he pushed it down and inward, making them both shake and gasp. He didn’t stop until they were groin to groin, and he looked up and caught her eyes.

Innocent. He looked so remarkably innocent in his love for her.

Holly shook her head as he braced himself up over her. Her legs went around him easily. When he pulled out, she tried to follow him.

She remembered his promise and suddenly didn’t care if he broke it.

 

***

 

He did keep it. Almost. Barely. Truthfully, Holly lost track of the amount of time it took before Dan let out a high, fine cry and mumbled her name, his thrusts pushing her up along the pillows, 

“Oh,” she muttered, her lips parted against his. Dan pressed himself against her, rangy, skinny his hair dry as it cascaded around her face. The strong smell of cinnamon filled her nose, along with the scent of fatwood and spark. Dan smelled like the fire she so worshiped; he smelled like a walk on the sun.

She could pin him down, easily. Keep him locked down, tied down, immobile, for days. She could knock him away, freeze him still. Stop his heart.

But as she lay peacefully oppressed beneath Dan’s gentle weight, breathing in concert with him, feeling the dozy heaviness of his body against her own. Holly realized that the wall she sought to mount between them already lay in ruins by her ankles. And yet she didn’t feel weakened, didn’t feel defeated. How could she, with the amount of pleasure he’d lavished upon her? 

The little tender part of her was growing. It was dangerous, but how could she kill what he’d so kindly kindled for her?

She didn’t realize he was crying until a teardrop hit her shoulder. She grabbed for his skin, and he turned away, sitting up. He wiped his eyes against the back of his hand. “Well, this was only the third most embarrassing way for you to find out I cry after sex sometimes.”

Dan had turned away. “It’s stupid,” he said, sniffling. “But like…I felt this connection. It was so strong. When I was inside of you…It was amazing.” He looked so hopeful. “Did you feel it?”

Rocks and cement crushing at her knees? Absolutely. She couldn’t say it. That was the problem. Being vulnerable was hard enough for her. “I always feel something when we’re like this,” she said, and held up her arms. “Come back here. Stay,” she demanded.

Mojo was purring at the foot of the bed as Dan laid back down beside Holly. They should change the sheets before her skin got itchy from the drying oil. She could do it with magic, easily. But some things could wait. Some men were worth feeling itchy and sticky for.

Some men were worth the effort.


End file.
